


Derek Doesn't Judge Your Life Choices

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [30]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Derek and Stiles are Neighbors, Firefighter Derek, M/M, Meet-Cute, Stiles wears odd costumes for reasons, Writer Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s this guy that lives across from Derek who has the most unusual fetish…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Doesn't Judge Your Life Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FanFicsagogo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicsagogo/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 30: Gift for fanficsagogo
> 
> (This was technically posted on Nov 30th on my tumblr, so Yaaaay!!! Challenge won!)

Derek sat back in his chair, a cold beer in one hand and the newest M. Stilinski book in the other. It was a nice night, perfect for reading. No bugs, not too much street noise, and his upstairs neighbors had moved out a week ago, giving him blessed, stompy-boots-free peace. Taking a long swallow of his beer, he flipped the page, losing himself in the gritty, intricately detailed but still fast-paced detective novel. 

When the shadows on the page shifted suddenly, dimming his view of the words, Derek looked up with a scowl. Bright light beamed across the narrow alley separating his apartment building from the one that was technically a block over. That building had large picture windows instead of balconies, a detail that had pushed Derek into renting this one. 

He didn’t like the thought of people being able to look in his windows at him. Like he was looking in the windows of his across-the-alley-and-down-one-floor neighbor. Derek was about to turn back to his book, not one for either voyeurism or eavesdropping, when his eyes caught on… 

It was a hot dog. Or, really, it was a hot dog bun, but a hundred times larger. Large enough for a man in a tiny pair of yellow briefs and a skull cap to climb into and wrap himself up in. 

Lips pursed, eyes wide, Derek dragged his gaze back to his book, reminding himself firmly that everyone was entitled to their own fetishes. He would _not_ be that guy who went around kinkshaming others. 

Not even in his own head. 

– 

Hands wrapped around the wrought iron railing that served as protection from the sixty plus foot drop to the concrete below, Derek forced himself to breathe deep and even. 

For most people, a bad day on the job meant missed calls, technical glitches. Meetings than ran past five, maybe. 

For first responders, a bad day on the job meant death. Death of innocents or those same heroes. On really bad days, it meant both. 

Derek breathed deeply, enjoying the mostly-fresh air. Here it wasn’t tainted with ash and smoke. The faint heat of the late-winter sun didn’t threaten blisters and scars. 

It had been a bad day, yes, but he forced himself to recognize that everyone had walked away. The boy they’d found hiding under his bed – already having succumbed to the poisonous fumes that sank to ground-level – had eventually been revived. It was on the EMTs and doctors now to ensure he stayed that way. 

Erica would heal. Her burns had been minor, all things considered. And she had Boyd to fetch and carry for her for the next forty eight hours of her convalescence leave. 

Letting out a long, slow breath, Derek opened his eyes and found himself staring down into his neighbor-with-the-hotdog-fetish’s apartment. At first glance, it looked like he was dressed up as a hot dog again, and Derek let out a low chuckle. 

It made him feel better, in some small way, that this random guy was enjoying himself so vehemently, thumbing his nose at convention. Derek sighed a little wistfully, and looked closer because something was… different. 

The guy who he’d thought to be in the original hot dog costume from all those weeks ago was _actually_ in a costume of a giant penis. Derek blinked, lips parting in shock as the man did a few jumping jacks, setting the attached balls bouncing gleefully. 

Shaking his head, Derek watched for a few minutes more before going back inside and leaving his neighbor to his happiness. 

Derek snorted and muttered, “Hah-penis.” 

Then he called Erica to check up on her, letting his neighbor fade out of his mind. 

– 

Derek stepped out onto his balcony, escaping the clamor of his various friends and the booming explosions of movie night when he pushed the sliding glass door closed. “Sorry, Cora,” he finally said when he could hear again. “I didn’t catch that.” 

“I said I’m coming to town, big brother.” 

Derek pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it in shock – and a little horror. “What? You– Why?! Is Mom putting you up to this?” he hissed, glancing back through the glass door to see if anyone was paying attention. 

Of course they weren’t. 

“Gee, Der. Don’t sound so enthusiastic.” 

Derek hung his head, guilt riding him hard. “Of course I want to see you, Cora. I just don’t want to hear the entire family’s various thoughts about my romantic failings. Braeden moved on; I wish you all would too.” 

“Derek.” Cora sighed down the line, sounding exhausted. “I know. Okay? I do. I just… need a change of scenery.” 

As if the word “scenery” had conjured him, Derek’s neighbor appeared with the flick of a switch. 

“Pack your bags then,” Derek murmured, not even trying to hide the grin that was overtaking his face – and his voice. “Need me to buy the ticket?” 

“God, would you?” 

“Of course.” Derek watched his neighbor tap-dance into view wearing a… _vagina_ that stopped mid-thigh. “You’re gonna love it here,” he said, unable to contain a bark of laughter. 

– 

Cora sank into the new folding lawn chair Derek had bought to put on his balcony beside his older, more worn one, knowing his sister’s love of both fresh air and heights. Reaching over, she clinked her bottle against his before sitting back with a sigh. 

Derek waited, leaning against the sturdy railing and letting the silence build. He knew, given enough of it, Cora would tell him why she was here. 

“I’m dropping out of med school,” she finally said, after picking the label off her beer in slow, methodical strips. 

Derek studied her for a long minute, taking in the dark circles under her eyes, the tremble in her hands. The defeated slump of her shoulders. “Okay,” he said, shrugging. 

“Okay?” Cora repeated, bewildered. 

“Yep.” 

“Not that I don’t love this whole new laid-back attitude you’re sporting, but…” 

Derek glanced down and away, lips curving up in an easy smile when he saw his neighbor. “Come here,” he said, voice low like he thought his neighbor could hear him. “Come look at this guy.” 

Cora came and stood at his shoulder, following Derek’s hand until her eyes flared wide. “What the–” 

“That guy,” Derek said, taking in the marijuana-leaf shaped crown the guy was wearing, the thick book he was carrying, and the tiny green underwear, “dresses up in different costumes all the time. He’s been the hotdog in a hotdog bun, a penis and balls, and a vagina. _That I know of._ And you know what?” 

Cora took a minute to reply, obviously still processing. “What?” she finally asked faintly. 

“He looks _happy._ He’s doing what makes him happy. I’m doing what makes me happy. How could I want less for you than I do for some random, oddball stranger?” 

Cora threw her arms around him, squeezing tight. “I love you,” she said, the words fierce with meaning. 

“I love you t– Oh my god!” Dropping Cora, Derek leapt toward his door and jerked it open, rushing toward his kitchen and grabbing a fire extinguisher before darting from his apartment. Taking the stairs an entire section at once put Derek on the ground floor in no time. 

In under two minutes, by his guess, he was scrambling up the stairs of the neighboring building, heart pounding frantically as the scene he’d witnessed pushed him to move faster. 

His neighbor, wearing the crown, the green underwear, and holding the book aloft, had lit something in his opposite hand from a candle. The resultant explosion of merry sparks – and the fact that it was July 2nd – led Derek to conclude ‘sparklers.’ The man had held the sparklers up, struck a pose, and immediately set his curtains on fire. Hence Derek’s race to save him. 

And the other residents of the building, of course. 

As a firefighter, Derek had an uncanny ability to navigate the inside of a building having only previously seen the outside, so he was able to pinpoint his neighbor’s apartment. When he got to the door, he didn’t slow down, just barrelled in, the frame splitting under the power of his shoulders. 

“Beacon Hills Fire Department!” Derek yelled, pulling the ring from his extinguisher and readying it as he ran into the nearly empty space. 

The space that had .. no fire for him to douse. 

Looking up, Derek met his neighbor’s eyes in person. For the first time. They were wide with shock, but a gorgeous brown. Moles that Derek hadn’t seen due to the distance separating their apartments dotted his skin. His mostly-bare body was lithe, toned, and… oh dear god, Derek was staring. 

“Who… what?” The guy stuttered, then in a fit of delayed reaction, tossed the extinguisher in _his_ hand at Derek. “What the fuck?!” 

Derek moved out of the way quickly, holding up a placating hand. “Sorry!” he blurted. “I saw… fire.” He let out a gusty sigh and said, “I’m a firefighter. I live…” he winced but pointed up at Cora, who waved back at him, her camera pointed in a way that suggested she’d been filming the whole thing. 

“Oh my god,” his neighbor breathed, one hand coming up to cover his mouth as his eyes widened further. His next “oh my god” was muffled but true. 

“Hey. It’s fine. I’m so sorry about your door. I’ll go see if I can find some tools to–” 

“How long?” his neighbor asked, the sound of his voice a little hollow and faint. 

“Hmm?” 

“How long have you been… watching?” 

Derek considered lying, he really did. In the end, though, honesty won out. “Since the hot dog.” 

Instead of screaming at Derek, as he expected, the guy bit his lip, hard. And then his shoulders started shaking and little muffled giggles burst from him. “Oh my _god._ ” 

Looking up at Derek, he stuck out a hand and said, “Hi. I’m Stiles Stilinski. I’m an author…” 

– 

Over coffee, Stiles told Derek and Cora the story of how he’d stumbled upon the perfect way to ensure his tendency to procrastinate didn’t interfere with his work. 

“I take pictures of myself that I do _not_ want my grandmother to see. I send them to my friend who is under strict orders to mail them to her if he hasn’t heard from my editor with news of progress by a given date. It is surprisingly effective.” 

Derek laughed, nodding even as he wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeves. “I can imagine it is!” 

Cora snorted on her own giggles, then punched Stiles in the arm. “I can’t believe you’ve been living across from my brother all this time! He’s got the biggest boner for your books.” 

Stiles looked up, arching one eyebrow at Derek even as he lifted his coffee to his lips. “Is that right?” he murmured. “Well, I’m certainly a fan of his work too.” 

Biting his lip, Derek looked up from under his lashes. “Maybe we should see if we like anything else about each other… over dinner.” 

“Can I wear my dick costume?” Stiles asked, grinning wickedly. 

“Aaaand, on that note… Boys, have fun,” Cora said, standing up and pecking Derek on the cheek. 

“Night, Cora. See you later.” 

“Before or after breakfast?” she muttered, but left with a pleased smile on her face. 

Turning back to Stiles, Derek raised his eyebrows. “So.” 

“So,” Stiles mimicked with a teasing smile. “You know my most embarrassing secret. Tell me yours.” 

Leaning forward, Derek smiled and said, “This one time, at band camp…” 

**Author's Note:**

> It’s not necessary, but if you need the visuals: 
> 
> The prompt that inspired this: <http://fanficsagogo.tumblr.com/post/133985575834/a-person-from-your-pairing-of-choice-sees-this.> (Also: “sparklers”)
> 
> More costumes here: <https://youtu.be/AdB0KtcePoQ>
> 
> The final costume’s headpiece I saw on a dude in Colorado Springs pre-legal days outside a medical dispensary. It was awesome. The rest of the costume was long, Lady Liberty robes from one of those sign flipping places, but I liked the idea of Stiles in tiny green undies better. :D


End file.
